Aria's POV
"Where's Lila?"
The words ripped from my throat harsher than I intended, the lace of my wedding dress scratching against my skin as I twisted toward Damon.
My voice trembled, sharp, loud enough to turn a few heads in the church hall, but I didn't care. My pulse was sprinting too fast for courtesy.
Damon's jaw tightened, his hand brushing the small of my back as if to steady me. "Aria, breathe. She's probably—"
"No," I cut him off, shaking my head hard enough to make the veil shift against my temple. "She wouldn't just disappear. Not today. Not when she promised me she'd be by my side. She said she wouldn't let anything happen again."
Margaret appeared at my other side, her navy gown sweeping the marble floor, her brows drawn in concern. "Sweetheart, she might just be late. Maybe fixing something, or—"
"She's gone, Margaret!" My voice cracked, panic slicing through me. "I can feel it. I just… I know."
